"But she just has to notice me", said the most unpleasant smelling, grungy looking troll that ever lived under Penscott bridge. The frog sitting in the bulrushes downstream of Brentrix just laughed and said, "don't lose your head over this one even if she is 'La Princessa', she's most certainly not your type and will break your heart".
This scenario played out at least 3 times a week for years for the love struck troll as he watched his lady fair approach the wooden bridge, which had been home to Brentrix for over a century. La Princessa had been fair of face at one time and most certainly still was as cold as ice. She was far more than haughty and had no time for commoners, much less a decrepit, old, wart infested wreck such as Brentrix who lived under the oldest bridge in her father's kingdom. She had even put to task a palace guard to accompany her on her walks to make sure that no one would bother or touch her as she went about her life in the "me, me, me zone".
La Princessa was so preoccupied thinking only of herself that she never even acknowledged the troll as he stood with his slimy green hand extended with gifts. Each time she passed him, he had something beautiful for her, albeit flowers, a collage of twigs and leaves or even a squishy soft pillow made from moss and bird down. The troll was lovesick and she was, well you get the picture. Her palace guard would always shout at the troll to step aside and push him out of the way.
Each time the troll was rejected, his stream mate the frog, tried to talk the lovesick troll into facing the reality of the situation, which was that, the love he sought would never be. Brentrix always sighed and stared into the sky seeing what only his lovesick heart let him see. Even after the hundreds of rejections, the tenacious troll kept watch daily, waiting for the object of his affection to use the bridge to get to the village down the lane. Poor dear, he just wouldn't hear the truth.
Brentrix had never been in love before or since. Oh, he had called on several female trolls through the years and even had a goblin interested in him in his youth but nothing serious ever came of any of these encounters. He had long ago given up thinking that he would, could or should be with anyone but 'La Princessa'.
His lack of physical beauty was made more clear to him when the water quality of the stream had improved and he actually saw his reflection in the water on a warm spring afternoon 19 years ago. Of course this shocking fact had set him back a little at the time but he had put it out of his thoughts. Either that or he never saw his ugliness as an obstacle.
Both the Princess and Brentrix had become more set in their ways as they aged. She wanted nothing to burst her bubble of self absorption and he wanted nothing more than for her to accept his love. Thus this situation escalated on a particularly lovely October afternoon. Brentix had been down the lane where he purchased a small and sturdy green pumpkin. He felt sure that if he painted his image on the green pumpkin that 'La Princessa' would have to see how much he loved her and certainly fall in love with him. He worked all morning and created what he thought was a gift so unusual and striking that it most certainly would be accepted.
But heart motive was not enough to sway the 'La Princessa' or for that matter her guard who, just as Brentrix stepped forward to hand her the pumpkin, drew his sword and swiftly separated Brentrix from his head. The pumpkin fell with a plop as did the severed head of the troll.
The frog gasped and began to croak and moan. "Poor Brentrix, I warned him not to lose his head, but noooooooooooooo, he wouldn't listen". The frog hopped away in tears for the troll he had always loved, the Princess and her guard resumed their stroll to the village and the head of Brentrix slowly and unceremoniously rolled off the bridge and splashed into the stream.
This of course should be the end of this tale, but it is not.
Not long after the beheading, a fair maiden also traversed this woodland path. She happened upon the pumpkin and was delighted by what she saw. "I just love the wisdom and warmth in this face. I must take it with me and cherish it".
And so she did.
Moral of this story, well there is none.
Sometimes you make a wrong move and lose your head.
But picking up a green pumpkin could be a good thing.
Then again what do we know.
|GK and Brentrix|
|What's not to love?|
*****We do in fact know that poor Brentrix had nothing to do with the wonderful pumpkin painting. That is the doing of GereaKaye my lovely and talented granddaughter who will next fall be traversing her own path to a degree in Art and Psychology.
We collaborated on this project for Magaly's October Heart Bits. Wouldn't have missed this fun October playtime for anything. Thanks Ms. Magaly for the adventure.
Smooches and Squoozes, Oma Linda and the very talented GereaKaye